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November 11, 2009

Tom's NYC Against Sex Trafficking Journey blog 4.

Tuesday 10 November

Tuesday begins with 9am press conference Washington Place starring
Mayor Bloomberg, Emma T and Helen B. Emma talks about how she met Elena (the
inspiration behind JOURNEY) who was working in a local massage parlour. Emma
listened as Elena told her heartbreaking story of being forced into
prostitution. Emma wanted to do something. Not a film. But to invent an
installation that would convey something of
the experience. Elena remarked that if people could only feel for 5 minutes what it is like… So JOURNEY was born.
The contributing artists have created a series of little storms you have to
weather. It is a vivid facsimile. It is an invitation to feel. It will do what
ever you allow it to. 13,000 people experienced it in London and many found it
a bewildering and confrontational

JOURNEY opens to the public around lunchtime. The trickle turns into a
stream and builds throughout the afternoon. At times the queue runs to 50
people with heads buried in the JOURNEY newspaper, which tells Elena’s story
punctuated by Laura Carlin’s poignant illustrations. It is such a beautiful tactile
object. The collision of childish handwriting, elegant aesthetic, and violent
content compounds the shock.

We have a fantastic team from the Foundation in London, but also many
volunteers living in New York City. They hum around in branded T-shirts, invite
passers-by to experience the show, and cushion them when they emerge. Many visitors
feel profoundly disorientated. We give them a form to fill in and ask for their
thoughts. They rest on their clipboards and hunt for words which we pull
together to strengthen our messages.

Some visitors want to talk – need to talk – can’t stop talking. We
speak to a couple from the Anthropology Department at Connecticut University.
They want to know if there is any escape, any cathartic redemption. We explain
that there are few happy endings. Being trafficked for sexual exploitation is
as brutal and nasty. Recovery is not about getting better. The trauma and loss
of self - like any kind of torture - goes so deep, it fissures the rest of
their lives.

Grim conversations about parents selling children today. Many
families in developing countries are so terminally destitute, a westerner
asking to buy their child is like a gift from the gods. Even if they suspect
the child might be mistreated, it could be a route to EDUCATION as opposed to a vicious cycle of poverty. Many children
are trafficked to work as domestic servants. Occasionally a neighbour might
mention a passing concern to the police, and raids on affluent families in
exclusive neighbourhoods reveal children forced into thankless servitude and living
in cupboards. The KPIs (key selling points) of trafficked people is that they
have no status, no rights, no protection. You can do what you want with them,
and then sell them on when you’re tired of them.

A student from NYU is very confused by it all. He stands in front of
us speechless and slightly shaking. He asks if we mind if he goes to the park
to have a cigarette.

I hunker down with my laptop on a wobbly chair under the HBF tent -
which serves as information centre, chill out room, bag depository, therapy
pool, pizza bar, coffee station – and leaf through visitors’ comments. We
already have thousands of sheets with names and email addresses. Here are a
few…

“What began as a relatively benign experience quickly became very
physically disturbing. Enormously effecting and simultaneously upsetting.”

“What am I supposed to do…?”

“Just what I needed to know. I’m not the only one…”

“I didn’t even know something like this existed. I feel ill.”

“A terrible truth. Everyone should know.”

“Of course I knew sex trafficking is bad, but I never knew how
disgusting it is.”

“What these women go through is sickening. It made me very
uncomfortable.”

“Overwhelmingly sad.”

“I had read about these atrocities in articles, but BEDROOM made me
feel it.”

“I appreciate my privileged place outside of this horrifying,
damaging world of cruelty, profit and deep malfunction.”

“This exhibition put flesh and substance, and story to the staggering
and paralyzing statistics.”

“I was particularly sickened by the bureaucrat’s responses.”

“It made me feel so naïve. I was so surprised to see this happening
in Western Europe.”

“Have never experienced anything as horrible as this. I wish I was
more powerful and influential. To do anything that would enable me to stop this
forever. It breaks my heart and we need to break the hearts of unaware people.
You are my heroes for doing something about it.”

Constant stream of people coming to the tent. Dollar bills going into
the buckets. T-shirts and newspapers spirited away. JOURNEY asserts itself on a
location. It radiates a subliminal sense of brooding fury. The metal containers
are saturated in the emotions of thousands of visitors. People tumbling out are
like swimmers coming up for air. Then they become quietly internalised. They
don’t really know what to do with it. We hope they become slow burning fuses
that trigger small explosions.

Comments

Tom's NYC Against Sex Trafficking Journey blog 4.

Tuesday 10 November

Tuesday begins with 9am press conference Washington Place starring
Mayor Bloomberg, Emma T and Helen B. Emma talks about how she met Elena (the
inspiration behind JOURNEY) who was working in a local massage parlour. Emma
listened as Elena told her heartbreaking story of being forced into
prostitution. Emma wanted to do something. Not a film. But to invent an
installation that would convey something of
the experience. Elena remarked that if people could only feel for 5 minutes what it is like… So JOURNEY was born.
The contributing artists have created a series of little storms you have to
weather. It is a vivid facsimile. It is an invitation to feel. It will do what
ever you allow it to. 13,000 people experienced it in London and many found it
a bewildering and confrontational

JOURNEY opens to the public around lunchtime. The trickle turns into a
stream and builds throughout the afternoon. At times the queue runs to 50
people with heads buried in the JOURNEY newspaper, which tells Elena’s story
punctuated by Laura Carlin’s poignant illustrations. It is such a beautiful tactile
object. The collision of childish handwriting, elegant aesthetic, and violent
content compounds the shock.

We have a fantastic team from the Foundation in London, but also many
volunteers living in New York City. They hum around in branded T-shirts, invite
passers-by to experience the show, and cushion them when they emerge. Many visitors
feel profoundly disorientated. We give them a form to fill in and ask for their
thoughts. They rest on their clipboards and hunt for words which we pull
together to strengthen our messages.

Some visitors want to talk – need to talk – can’t stop talking. We
speak to a couple from the Anthropology Department at Connecticut University.
They want to know if there is any escape, any cathartic redemption. We explain
that there are few happy endings. Being trafficked for sexual exploitation is
as brutal and nasty. Recovery is not about getting better. The trauma and loss
of self - like any kind of torture - goes so deep, it fissures the rest of
their lives.

Grim conversations about parents selling children today. Many
families in developing countries are so terminally destitute, a westerner
asking to buy their child is like a gift from the gods. Even if they suspect
the child might be mistreated, it could be a route to EDUCATION as opposed to a vicious cycle of poverty. Many children
are trafficked to work as domestic servants. Occasionally a neighbour might
mention a passing concern to the police, and raids on affluent families in
exclusive neighbourhoods reveal children forced into thankless servitude and living
in cupboards. The KPIs (key selling points) of trafficked people is that they
have no status, no rights, no protection. You can do what you want with them,
and then sell them on when you’re tired of them.

A student from NYU is very confused by it all. He stands in front of
us speechless and slightly shaking. He asks if we mind if he goes to the park
to have a cigarette.

I hunker down with my laptop on a wobbly chair under the HBF tent -
which serves as information centre, chill out room, bag depository, therapy
pool, pizza bar, coffee station – and leaf through visitors’ comments. We
already have thousands of sheets with names and email addresses. Here are a
few…

“What began as a relatively benign experience quickly became very
physically disturbing. Enormously effecting and simultaneously upsetting.”

“What am I supposed to do…?”

“Just what I needed to know. I’m not the only one…”

“I didn’t even know something like this existed. I feel ill.”

“A terrible truth. Everyone should know.”

“Of course I knew sex trafficking is bad, but I never knew how
disgusting it is.”

“What these women go through is sickening. It made me very
uncomfortable.”

“Overwhelmingly sad.”

“I had read about these atrocities in articles, but BEDROOM made me
feel it.”

“I appreciate my privileged place outside of this horrifying,
damaging world of cruelty, profit and deep malfunction.”

“This exhibition put flesh and substance, and story to the staggering
and paralyzing statistics.”

“I was particularly sickened by the bureaucrat’s responses.”

“It made me feel so naïve. I was so surprised to see this happening
in Western Europe.”

“Have never experienced anything as horrible as this. I wish I was
more powerful and influential. To do anything that would enable me to stop this
forever. It breaks my heart and we need to break the hearts of unaware people.
You are my heroes for doing something about it.”

Constant stream of people coming to the tent. Dollar bills going into
the buckets. T-shirts and newspapers spirited away. JOURNEY asserts itself on a
location. It radiates a subliminal sense of brooding fury. The metal containers
are saturated in the emotions of thousands of visitors. People tumbling out are
like swimmers coming up for air. Then they become quietly internalised. They
don’t really know what to do with it. We hope they become slow burning fuses
that trigger small explosions.